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Aug 2020
I fled the battling for peace at the dying of the light
At the fall of evening and her stars
For this world keeps waxing, and t'is her right
To live through her tales and fight all of her wars

The noise of tomorrow lulled me to sleep
Yet her desperate cries too pursued their way
And summoned my conscience out of the misty deep
The yoke of tomorrow is left weightless at the summit of her play

In the dead of that night, the dark was set ablaze
When a great fire trembled up future's mighty monument
But it bore no meaning at that place
For it leaves all in ashes and is content

Fire turns to ashes, ashes to dust
And hence I thought all evil had shed away
But a fierce wind set in, and in its  hands I trust
The remnants of my hopes, my love slightly lost along the way

Storms are fragile under the weight of immortality
Time's undying and all will turn to nothingness
For the storm; it came and went and left her soul to me
An empty soul, deprived of all her dreams and idleness

Dawn blew her trumpet for the heraldry of morn
The battle for peace was fought and won, and hence
The noise of tomorrow was left into the hands of empty scorn
And all the rest was utter silence
Written by
Fenna Capelle
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